Hungergy Games

I wake up screaming again. It’s happened every night since I’ve been back in district twelve. Back in this cold empty house, I never really called it home. The mockingjays are singing outside my window. I groan and press my pillow hard over my ears but I can’t muffle the sound of the knock at my door so I reluctantly get up and answer it.
I am surprised to see him, his blue eyes are still mesmerizing as ever but have grown more intense from all the pain and destruction they have been subjected to. The burns the seemed to take over a good portion of his face the last time I saw him have healed somewhat, but the scars won’t ever fully go away. I have to say they make me feel closer to him, though I’m not so sure why. Maybe because I know he has suffered as much if not more than I have these past couple of years and our scars seem to join us together.
“Peeta…” I am unsure what to say to him.
“They wouldn’t let me leave until now” he says “I just came to check on you. You haven’t been answering your phone.”
“I don’t really feel like talking to anyone” I say lowering my eyes to the floor.
His gaze is too powerful but I have to admit I am glad to see him I have been so lonely and Haymitch isn’t the best company or friend for that matter but he has grown on me in a way I can’t explain. Maybe because I have weakness for helpless or broken people.
“Hey…” he says lifting my chin softly bringing me back to those eyes. He then smiles at me that smile that used to cross his face often… before he was hijacked, and for the moment I feel that he is somewhat himself again. “then we won’t talk” we spend the day in silence curled up on the floor with my head in his lap as he runs his fingers through my hair softly untangling the mats that have gone unbrushed for days. As night falls he motions toward the door and I grab his hand.
“Don’t leave…” I say lightly
The smile is quickly replaced by a concerned frown now it is he who lowers his gaze. “I’m… not so sure that’s a good idea…”
“I know you… you won’t hurt me.” He stands not moving or looking up at me but I can tell what he is thinking. “Fine! If you think you can’t control yourself then just go!”
I run upstairs to my room and slam the door. I don’t know why I got so mad at him. He was just being careful, but I felt angry at the thought that even now that the war is over, things can never be exactly the way they were before, and that gives President Snow a victory over me even in death.
I climb into bed and start to sob. The door opens and he slowly lays down and puts his arms around me. “You want me hear. Real or not real?” he asks “Real” I tell him. “I want you to stay with me.” I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m never good at expressing my feelings, but his warmth gives me chills and I realize I have missed his touch.
He holds me closer and whispers in my ear “Always” Peeta holds me through the night but I can tell it’s hard for him because a few times he has to clutch the pillow tight and let the flash backs pass, but he never says a word or does anything to hurt me. I take a shower, get dressed and go outside.
He is there digging a hole next to my house. His forehead parched with sweat, tassels of blonde curls sticking to it. His scars are more noticeable in the sunlight, but in no way does it take away from his charm. He is focused on what he is doing and he speaks to me without looking up from his work.
“I found these while I was taking a walk. I thought we could plant them… for her.” He says. I recognize the flowers right away. Primrose. The flower my sister